


Farm Boy

by jaythewriter



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: M/M, Much sadder than it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:23:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaythewriter/pseuds/jaythewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jay and Tim find that they have no other option: they must spend the night in a farm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Farm Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: fire, questioning of one's reality, and implied animal death.

“Y’know, thanks to you, I’m so used to trespassing on private property that it’s second nature to me.”

Blood rushes to Jay’s cheeks at that as he stands up straight, clutching a backpack stuffed full with two changes of clothing and a paltry breakfast for the next day consisting of chips and two apples. He turns to his companion standing off to the side, hands stuffed into his pockets and eyes cast off in the distance.

He gazes towards a tiny farmhouse, red painted doors open to reveal several chickens pecking around in the hay. It couldn’t look more like a farm out of a storybook if it tried.

“Sorry,” Jay says to Tim with complete sincerity. “I was not intending on getting you involved in my life of, uh, crime and all.”

Tim snorts, reaching out to take the backpack from Jay. 

“Always knew my parents were right about ya, you bein’ a rapscallion that would taint my pure soul,” Tim teases, putting on a southern drawl for effect. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he ducks out from beneath the low trees they parked their cars under. “Now hurry up. The sooner we’re in the building the better.”

“Okay, I know I already asked, but are you /sure/ about this?” Jay presses. He jogs across the short distance Tim has already put between them, eyebrows creased with concern. “I mean, it’s one thing to break into an abandoned hospital. Generally nobody is living there except, uh, that one time with the homeless guy and the drugs, but...”

The man looks to a house that’s set within walking distance of their destination. It’s obviously in use, with the polka dot patterned drapes parted to reveal a warmly lit kitchen. Tim shakes his head, adjusting the strap of the backpack.

“We’ll be okay. You’re the one that used to be a farm boy, right?”

“Well, yeah,” Jay confirms with a weak nod. “That doesn’t mean I know the intricacies of hiding out in a barn overnight without getting caught.”

“Whatever, maybe the animals will realize who you are and leave us be,” Tim says before ducking down and speeding towards the barn. Jay chances a glance towards the silent home before joining him, feet crunching down the dry grass.

Tim makes it to the door first. He carefully pulls it open, avoiding splinters and the like. It creaks, though not loudly enough to justify the way Jay jumps and frantically scans the area.

“It’s not too late to go find a hotel,” he hisses to Tim, gripping at the back of his shirt. 

“I told you we don’t have enough money,” the other man reminds him, turning and grabbing Jay’s arm. He none-too-gently pulls him into the farm, shoving him inside. “And it’ll be better hiding out here than in the cars. Warmer, anyway.”

Jay allows himself to be steered into the barn and he stands there, arms awkwardly hanging at his sides. Staring around, he finds that he and Tim will be bunking for the night with a horse, a single cow with her calf, and several hens pecking around the straw-covered floor. The cows and horse are penned off luckily enough, each of them occupying their own corners of the wide room, but the chickens have free reign of the entire barn.

“Guess we’ll be making a couple friends tonight,” Jay comments offhandedly. A particularly large hen comes strutting his way, allowing him to stoop down and stroke through her feathers. She proudly tosses her head around, apparently enjoying the attention.

“What’d I tell you? The animals like you already,” Tim teases as he passes by, stopping at the cow’s pen. Looking in at its space makes him wrinkle his nose and turn away immediately. “Good thing smoking destroyed my sense of smell.”

“I’m not so lucky,” Jay mumbles miserably. He crosses his arms uncomfortably, looking to the rickety ladder standing by the horse pen. Tentatively approaching it, he ascends to what appears to be an oversized storage shelf of sorts for all of the straw, with heaps and heaps of it covering the entire area. “I think I found our beds for the night.”

Tim makes a curious noise and follows up behind him, making his way onto the shelf and joining Jay in the piles of straw. His lip curls at the sight of it, as though amused.

“Looks like they knew we were coming,” he says, dropping the backpack and going down with it. He flops carelessly against the thickest pile, nestling against it with a sigh. At his side is a small lantern; he takes out his lighter and puts it to good use. The flame flickers softly, causing strange shadows to dance around on his face. “Take your pick of straw. Unless you’re not going to sleep, though I don’t see why you wouldn’t. Nothin’ to do here.”

It isn’t long before Tim’s breathing becomes deep and even. Jay lingers nearby, nerves lit up and brain buzzing too loudly for sleep to reach him. He doesn’t even consider lying down; it’s not worth the effort and wasted time.

Instead, he eyes the animals on the floor below, curious about his temporary bunkmates. His memories are too slippery for him to properly recall the beasts that he called his friends back home-- still, a faint but excitable tickle seeps into his chest at the sight below him. These past years have left Jay lacking in proper human contact, but even that pales in comparison to his contact with animals.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he’s descending the ladder and approaching the cow pen. The mother makes a low noise, lifting her head and staring at Jay with bright curious eyes. She leans her head down to run her tongue along the top of her child’s head, as though making it clear to Jay that it’s her baby and that he should think twice about coming closer.

“It’s okay, miss,” Jay reassures her with a hushed voice, stooping down to pick up the cleanest bunch of straw he can find. Closing the short distance with quiet footsteps and his whole body relaxed, he holds out the straw for the mother cow, waiting patiently for her to decide whether or not she accepts his offer.

She stares for a long moment at the straw before her tongue flicks out and wraps around it. Jay’s shoulders rock with a satisfied sigh at her acceptance, and when she has eaten all that he picked up for her, he bends again to find more straw. When he comes back up this time, she doesn’t hesitate to eat the straw right away, even licking his fingers afterward to be sure she hasn’t left any.

“You seemed hungry,” Jay points out, just as the calf goes beneath its mother to get its own midnight snack. “Good thing I came along.”

Extending a hopeful hand, he gently scratches behind the cow’s ear. If he isn’t mistaken, she actually leans into his attentive touch, ear twitching with pleasure. She moos, quiet at first, then louder and louder to the point that Jay rips his hand away and hisses at her to shush.

“No, please,” he begs when she moos again, trying to push her head over the pen to reach his hand for more petting. “My friend, he’s asleep, and--”

“No he’s not,” Tim interrupts with a groan from up above. Jay curses under his breath at the sound of the ladder creaking under his friend’s weight. 

“I’m so sorr--”

“Whatever, it’s not like I wouldn’t have woken up eventually anyway,” Tim brushes the matter off, joining Jay on the first floor and eyeing his new animal companion with a quirked eyebrow. “Couldn’t resist playing with our roommates, could you?”

Jay shrugs weakly, eyes to the floor. Tim reaches out and pats the cow upon the head, grinning when her long tongue comes out to return the gesture. He leans away before she gets the chance to drool on him.

“Guess I can’t blame you,” he says with a small grin. “They’re kind of cute. I’d prefer a cat or a dog, lower maintenance and all, but this works too.”

Shaking his head, Jay carefully chooses the spot with the most straw to keep from getting his jeans dirty and drops down to sit, knees tucked under his chin. 

“I wouldn’t--not that cats or dogs or anything like that are inferior, but,” Jay runs a hand through his hair thoughtfully, gazing around the barn. His eyes begin to glaze over, dreamy and content. “Being near the animals here, it feels right. It feels like being back home, I guess.”

Tim nods in understanding, coming down onto the floor with him. He doesn’t say anything, though that’s more than alright with Jay. They aren’t the most talkative of people and Tim hardly expects Jay to entertain him in their downtime. 

Still. Sometimes Jay wishes Tim would distract him-- he doesn’t care how he does it, he just needs his mind to focus on something that doesn’t set his heart off racing, his thoughts not far behind.

The sounds around him are beginning to seep into his system, trickling through his nerves and into his mind. The nickering of the horse at his back, crackling straw beneath his body, quiet chatter of the hens that peck around the room...

His memory is strong enough to recall that he was once a farm boy. He remembers animals, remembers these smells and sounds and sensations, he definitely experienced all of these things once upon a simpler and quieter time.

But the true memories, the times he spent with the animals, working with them, feeding them, growing up with them--

Gone. They’re all gone. They were there once, they must have been if he is drawn to these animals... right? 

“Tim?” Jay whispers, voice cracking against his will. The other man picks up on his distress quickly, brown eyes wide in the lantern light. He looks to Jay, watching him closely. Jay breathes evenly as he can, lifting a hand to clutch his chest. “H-how much do you remember? About you being younger, I- mean.”

Tim considers Jay with a furrowed brow and a puzzled frown before he turns his gaze to the ceiling. He chews at his lower lip in thought before shaking his head.

“Not much. It’s all a blur of living in the hospital and going back and forth from there to home. When everything is so repetitive, more of the same-old-same-old and you’re on auto-pilot almost twenty four seven, it’s hard to make a solid memory.”

“Why?” Tim asks, scanning Jay’s face. The blue-eyed man shields his face, burrowing his nose into his knees. He can feel the heat in his cheeks, painted red with misery. Still, Tim persists, repeating himself a second time. “Why did you ask, Jay?”

“I can’t remember anything either,” Jay confesses with his voice muffled by his hiding place. He squeezes his legs closer to himself, eyes shut tight. “But I used to, I know I used to, and I just noticed now that I can’t anymore. I didn’t think that... thing was affecting my past memories, but, but I guess it has, or m-maybe those things I think I remembered once never actually happened and I’m losing my mind even more, or--”

“Okay, stop right there.”

Jay winces and curls into himself even tighter, if that’s even possible. The floorboards whine under the shift of Tim’s weight, and a moment later Jay feels the heat of another body beside him. He doesn’t need to look up to know that Tim is reaching for him, a hesitant hand hovering over his shoulder.

“You’re going to stress yourself out if you keep trying to figure out whether it all actually happened, so don’t worry about that,” Tim tells him with a soft voice, softer than Jay has ever heard him speak. “Easier said than done, yeah, but I think it’ll help to know that I definitely know you’re a farm boy. You were looking at the cows like you’ve known them forever.”

Tim’s right; it does help, to know that he’s truly a farm-born man and that he isn’t so far-gone that he’s dreaming up a past for himself that never existed. 

But he’s still losing his memories.

“I don’t want to forget everything,” Jay murmurs so quietly, he wonders if he even said those words aloud.

But there are arms around him, squeezing him and protecting him from the winter chill creeping in through the rickety wooden walls of the barn. Jay sighs, letting himself lean into Tim’s embrace.

“I’ll help you remember everything if it comes to that. I promise. I know you’d do the same for me.”

A thick lump forms in Jay’s throat, and he slides a hand out from the ball he has curled himself into. Closing it around the one resting upon his side, he squeezes it reassuringly and manages to utter a soft thank you.

Tim returns his squeeze with no hesitance at all. 

\--

It takes Jay a moment to realize that he’s in the right place when he wakes up and notices he’s not passed out in the car. 

It’s Tim’s arms around his shoulders that spark his memory-- yes, he’s supposed to be here, he and Tim intentionally came to this barn to rest overnight. 

He doesn’t dare squirm and risk waking his sleeping friend. The lantern is still proudly glowing, allowing Jay the chance to gaze around at their furry roommates. The horse is settled down on the floor, snuffling softly in its sleep, and the chickens that were pecking at Jay’s feet earlier are gathered in the middle of the floor for warmth. As for the cow and its baby, the child is curled up at her side and breathing deeply as its mother stares on at the pair of humans intruding within her home. 

“Hi,” Jay mumbles in greeting. She blinks slowly at him, then turns her glittery stare to the door.

It’s standing open, letting in a breeze that sinks into Jay’s bones and makes him shiver. 

He did not leave it that way. Shit, he's almost certain that he didn't, and Tim never leaves doors or windows open, unlocked, none of that. He's not the forgetful one.

But if the farmer was the one who poked his head inside, surely he noticed that there were two strange men asleep together in his barn? It's not as though the room isn't lit up.

That's when Jay knows that there's someone-- something else there with them.

He doesn't want to look, but he does, because he has to, he can't /not/ look for it. It's here, somewhere, watching, wondering why its little toys are in such an unusual place. 

Then-- right in front of him, taller than ever, head tilted forward, pale and terrifying in the light of the lantern, dark body glowing a hellish orange and a hand reaching for his face--

The cow beside him lets out a long shrieking moo, sharp and frightened, and suddenly Jay is scrambling up and tugging at Tim, pleading with him to get up, /please/ wake up, they can't stay there any longer and he's up, he doesn't even need any explanation because this is hardly the first time they've had to go running out in the middle of the night together.

They don't bother retrieving the backpack; they're halfway out the door before they even realize they've forgotten it. But someone's foot must have collided with the lantern, because Jay can smell smoke. The whole place was dry as a bone-- this can only end one way.

He hears the horse screaming and the loud clunk of its hooves beating against the wall, and something must give, there's splintering and the sound of wood collapsing, but Jay has no idea if it actually manages to escape. Tim doesn't let him look back, not even when they hear the sharp cursing of the farmer as he runs outside to find out just what the hell is happening to his animals.

"Oh god," and Jay's sobbing before he can stop himself, his legs are going rubbery and shaky. Tim tugs him along, up the grassy hill and towards the road where the car awaits them. He doesn't stop even when they're both strapped in and the tires are screeching along the gravel, swiftly taking them away from the hell they've caused.

"Oh god, fuck-- they're okay, right?" Jay gasps out to Tim, more of a plead than a question. He needs him to say they are, so maybe he can cling to the hope that maybe the animals escaped. 

Tim doesn't look at him as he answers with a quiet 'of course' that he himself obviously doesn't believe.

But that doesn’t stop him from saying that they’re alright.

Tim knows what Jay needs. Thank god somebody does.

Jay doesn't know how long it took for him to dry his eyes and stop shaking. But they're in civilization by the time he opens his eyes again, with streetlights bearing down upon them and honking cars swishing by on their way to work.

It's so different, he can almost pretend that their visit to the farm never happened at all.


End file.
